


Carry me back to peaceful slumber

by headraline



Series: Nights to Remember [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Brotherly feels, Gen, M/M, Post-Recall, but nothing too gory or nasty, idk this just hit me, mending brotherly relationships, mentions of the brothers' dark past, pre-McHanzo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2019-05-09 05:46:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14710244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/headraline/pseuds/headraline
Summary: Genji has a knack for falling asleep in weird places and positions.Hanzo and Jesse find him on one such occasion.someone should really get that cyborg pretzel into a proper bed before he dislocates something.





	Carry me back to peaceful slumber

**Author's Note:**

> ...as per usual, these very short and little domestic, brotherly things hit me late at night and while thinking of family.  
>  Iwrote this in half an hour, sorry not much happens into it.  
> I just got hit with the image of Genji falling asleep a bit like I do, at the very end of his rope and running on fumes while still trying to do things -and Hanzo going "aw you goof you always did try to stay up past bedtime" <3
> 
> also McHanzo. Because it's always obvious wat my favourite ships are. XD  
> Hope it can bring joy and good feelings to at least one person.
> 
> Edit: if you can, please read while listening to [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qTOmTQELqm0). It's what I was listening to when inspiration came. Thought it'd be a nice tought.  
> kbye <3

Genji is in the computer room when Hanzo finds him –the elder Shimada cannot contain a fond smile at the display… some things really never do change.

The body curled up in front of the display, wedged in the chair but partially slumped over the table, is much different than what the archer remembers, but his sparrow is still the same: reviewing evidence right after the absolute mess that was the poor excuse for a recon that they went on is bound to have been exhaustingly dull; and Genji has never been good with dull, boring things –ascetic training notwithstanding.

So there he sits, left knee curled up to his chest, the foot barely on the edge of the chair, while the right leg is carelessly rested on the corner of the table, cyborg arms crossed over his lap as his head is slumped over them, slightly to the side, visor all but abandoned by the laptop’s side.

Always asleep in the strangest of positions, this one.

Hanzo bites his lips.

“Hanzo? Did ya find—” Jesse finds himself shushed before he can even properly round the corner into the computer room’s entrance.

“Don’t. Please.” It’s a hushed whisper, barely audible really, but it does the job. “You’ll wake him.”

Chancing a look at the slumbering cyborg, McCree smiles in amusement –he’s seen plenty a scene like that in their Blackwatch days; the cyborg would sometimes pick absolutely impossible places and fall asleep just like that. Sure, at the time it was simply to escape reality, in the most tragic _‘if I’m not awake to experience this trauma it’s not happening’_ sort of way, but it still earned him the nickname “Genji-cat”, though only Jesse ever used it and lived to tell the tale without shuriken-shaped scars on his ass.

The cowboy is still smiling affectionately before he realizes how long must have been for Hanzo since the last time this happened between them –suddenly, he feels like a usurper. He swallows down the feeling, shaking it out of his head, and instead kicks his brain into gear to do something good, if only to see a smile blossom on Hanzo’s face once more: he’s been doing that more often ever since his and Genji’s mysterious nightly reconciliation, and to say it’s been driving Jesse crazy is the understatement of the century.

Even so, the cowboy finds it in himself to whisper: “That can’t be comfortable.” He says, gently nudging the archer’s elbow, “We should wake him.”

“You’d be surprised at what Genji considers ‘comfortable’.” Hanzo comments in a low chuckle, mind a couple decades away, before returning to the here and now. “Still. You’re probably right.”

With that, the archer tentatively steps forward towards where Genji is sitting, extending a hand and going straight for his little brother’s temple.

Jesse had an advice not to touch on the tip of his tongue, remembering how violent the cyborg would get back in the day when startled, be it he tried to shake ‘im awake by the shoulder, the arm or whatever… but it dies in his throat when Genji doesn’t jump or startle at all. He reacts to the touch as if it was well and truly familiar, something dearly missed –and Hanzo’s hand seemed practiced, if only from muscle memory: knuckles alongside the temple, then turn and splay the palm on the scarred cheek, brushing the thumb gently on the cheekbone right underneath the eye. “Sparrow.” Genji leans into it and blinks himself awake, “Sparrow, come on. Let’s get you in a proper bed.”

“Hmm.” The cyborg hums, tired and reluctant to stir from his slumber enough to walk, “My legs are asleep.”

Hanzo struggles to hide a certain tender amusement. “Of course they are.” He says as they make eye-contact, and something in the way Genji looks at him makes the archer’s heart stir with renewed pain and guilt.

_You don’t deserve any of this._

_You tried to murder him._

_You’re not fit to look at the ground he steps on._

Still, Genji’s eyes dive into his own, and a voice distinctly similar to his sparrow’s makes its way in his mind:

_You came back._

_You’re repenting._

_You held him as you both cried._

_You’re trying. It’s worth something._

With the voice of redemption winning this one four to three, Hanzo actually cracks a smile when Genji extends his hands towards him and makes baby grabbing motions; and he pretends to be actually annoyed as he turns with a sigh. “Go on, then.”

The cyborg wastes no time in throwing his arms around Hanzo’s neck from behind and letting his brother lift him up by the thighs, essentially piggyback. “Let me stay in your room?” he groggily asks, nuzzling his face to the side.

It hits a little too close to home, is a little too reminiscent of a time of things that could have been but never quite were, when two brothers that could have been thick as thieves were pushed apart instead; and only ever really had the chance to be brothers late at night, without the watchful eye of clan elders telling them it was _weak_ to care for your own sibling. Nonetheless, Hanzo only stiffens slightly in his step as he asks: “Why?”

Genji doesn’t miss a beat: “Because shut up that’s why.”

With that, he slumps fully on Hanzo’s shoulder, either feigning sleep or actually drifting back towards unconsciousness. Either way, the conversation is over and Genji will get his way.

“You sure let ‘im get away with a lot…” McCree comments, hoping to lighten the mood –he has noticed Hanzo’s rigid posture and the way the color drained slightly from his face at whatever memory his mind conjured, be it good, bad or bittersweet; “Makes a fella mighty jealous.”

“He gets free passes because he almost got slaughtered.” It feels surreal, and probably in poor taste, to joke about what brought them to the here and now, but as Genji himself often tells him, if they can’t laugh about it, then they can only cry, and that will amount to nothing for either of them –they got enough crying under their belts for several lifetimes over. “Are you willing to risk meeting the tip of my arrows with your skin, just for a few cuddles?”

Jesse will blame the late hour for this afterwards, but doesn’t filter his answer: “Shit, darlin’, if you keep lookin’ at me like that… I just might be.”

Hanzo raises an eyebrow at that. He dearly hopes he guessed correctly where this conversation is going. “That’s a bold claim.”

It’s happening. They’re actually flirting –well, Jesse is flirting shamelessly as he has been for several weeks, but now Hanzo is actually starting to respond! The cowboy can scarcely believe his luck.

His witty reply, however, is stopped before it can even start, as Genji briefly raises his head back up: “Oh, for _fuck’s sake_ , just carry me to bed first! _Then_ you can come back here alone and ride the cowboy!”

The groggy complaint makes McCree jump and the archer turn scarlet, but it does spur them both into motion.

“I should go.”

Jesse nods at Hanzo’s whisper, biting his lips at yet another missed chance –this time, at least, there’s progress. And hope. But tonight is not a night for romance. He’s a patient cowboy; he can leave this one to the brothers. Tipping his hat at the retreating figure, he doesn’t miss the way Hanzo mouths “Thank you” at him –and the archer’s gaze, sincere and earnest, tells Jesse that his gratitude has nothing to do with his help in locating Genji and everything to do in allowing Hanzo to be the one to do this.

“You’re welcome… darlin’.” he whispers back to the shadow of Hanzo’s parting back. Not quite heard, but not quite silent either –man, he’s got it bad.

Once they reach his room, Hanzo has no problems tucking Genji into bed –sure, the image still overlaps with what he remembers of his little sparrow, and every scar, every missing part is a reminder – _I did this. Every inch of this body is like this because of me._

He will never pretend it’s not still raw and hard to digest, that he has destroyed so much –but there’s only so many times he can spit in forgiveness’ face. Fate has already granted him two incredible fortunes: the brother he thought lost forever is back, and he still loves him.

As long as Genji feels at peace with what he is, Hanzo will stop questioning it, and accept himself for what he’s become as well: a flawed man, battered but no longer broken or alone, seeking redemption.

Apparently, redemption begins with a brush of fingers on a scarred cheek and whispers of goodnight.

“Anija?”

Hanzo barely hums inquisitively at the familiar call. “Hmm?”

“You _so_ want to ride the cowboy.”

“Oh my _God_ , Genji, just… go to sleep!”

Redemption, as it turns out, carries on with teasing laughter and stifled yawns punctuating amused whispers through the night, lying back to back on a mattress just shy of being too small.

…and Hanzo wouldn’t have it any other way.


End file.
